Two Birds
by ChickWalker2000
Summary: Heyes decides to go it alone with disastrous results


_Revenge Is A Dish Best Served Cold..._

Kid Curry woke with the sun streaming down on his face. His head felt like the sky had fallen in on him bringing the stars down with it.He looked around slowly - had to be slow because the slightest movement brought on another attack of shooting stars. Where in hell was he? He didn't have a clue...

He was laying under a soft, warm quilt, in a feather bed in a hotel room, still fully clothed, except for his boots, hat and gloves that were laying on the table by the window. His gun was there, still in its holster, on the belt that hung from the bed post beside him. And he was alone.

Now, that was the thing that struck him as most odd. It wouldn't be the first time he'd woken up to find Heyes had put him to bed, but it was obviously late on in the day and by now, Heyes should have roused him and be taking great delight in poking fun at his plight.

"You just can't hold your drink any more Kid," he'd say with one of his most annoying grins. And if Curry's memory of the night before were anything to go by, he'd be right. He sure as hell couldn't remember drinking much. Not enough to give him this kind of a hangover anyways. And why wasn't Heyes here with him?

He sat up, and immediately regretted it. The room swam and his head pounded all the more. But he held his ground and, after a while, the room stopped moving and he slowly managed to focus his eyes on the room - and that was when he started to worry all the more. His things were all there, more or less where he'd dropped them the night before, but there was nothing of Heyes'. The key to the room was on the floor, in front of the door as if someone had gone out, locked the door behind em, then pushed the keys back under. Kid swung his legs to the floor and hung on tight while another earthquake struck inside his tortured head. What in the world had happened here last night? Kid pressed his clouded mind for details; there had to be an explanation in there somewhere. Just a matter of trying to think... last night... what did the two of them get up to last night...? Nothing Just pain and flashing lights and the dreadful, overwhelming need to be violently sick.

He held his head in his hands, groaning lightly as he waited for the wave of nausea to pass. All this thinking was doing him no good. He wanted nothing more than to lie back on those soft feather pillows and sleep some more. But he couldn't, not till he'd found Heyes and got to the bottom of... whatever. Something must have happened to make him feel bad enough to sleep so late. Something must have happened to have Heyes pack his bags in the middle of the night and walk out on him. If he could just remember.

Coffee would help, he decided. Coffee and a little something to eat. resisting the urge to lay back down and close his eyes, he pulled on his boots, tied on his gun, picked up his gloves and hat and headed out the door. He stopped off at the desk to see if his partner had left a note - he hadn't - before heading to the restaurant for a cup of coffee - nothing to eat; whatever Heyes had given him had made his stomach churn. As he sipped his coffee, strength and clear headedness began to return and memories of the night before started coming back to him.

Heyes had been in a good mood, which had pleased Kid since his friend had been more than a little broody lately, as though there were something on his mind he wasn't telling. But last night he was relaxed, ruffling some feathers at the Poker table, making jokes at the other player's expense, buying drinks to smooth upset tempers... that was pretty unusual behaviour for Heyes in itself. Stranger still, now he remembered, that Heyes made a point of pouring and fetching the whiskey himself. Usually, he'd snap his fingers and one or more saloon girls would be falling all over themselves to bring Heyes his drinks. But not last night. And it was after he'd drunk a couple of whiskeys that Kid had begun to feel so woozy he'd had to take himself off to his bed. Real early too, just gone eight o clock. He remembered that clearer than anything else, checking the time on the clock over the bar, because he couldn't work out why he was suddenly feeling so tired.

He couldn't! He wouldn't have, would he...? Surely Heyes wouldn't have put something in his drink? Why would he do that? The very notion was too stupid for words. And yet... he only had two whiskeys. They'd been in town almost all the day, resting up. There really was no reason for him to be so tired, or so drunk, And would two whiskeys give him this kind of a hangover...? And where the hell was Heyes?

He turned all his charms on the plain waitress - she remembered his friend; tall, good looking dark haired fella. But no, sad to say, she hadn't seen him since suppertime.

He tried each of the town's three saloons, then glanced in at the General Store; they needed fresh supplies and if Heyes was flush after a Poker game, he might have been in there. He flashed his sweetest smile at the matronly lady behind the counter, maybe Heyes had decided to treat himself to one of these new Mark Twain's he could see piled on the counter. But no, sorry, she hadn't seen his friend. And she would have remembered; not many cowboys around here were given to book buying.

And so, finally, he fetched up at his last port of call. The one place he'd been dreading going to; the Livery stable, afraid it would confirm his darkest fears.

He wasn't disappointed. Heyes' horse was gone.

"Left late last night. Came in, 'bout six O' clock to ask me to get his horse ready, as he was going to be riding out quite late, after I'd closed. Paid up in full for his horse an all there and then... No I don't know which way he went young fella. He didn't say and I didn't ask. Ain't no business of mine," the man said, spitting on the floor and turning back on Kid.

Well the Livery keeper wasn't much help, but now at least he knew that Heyes had _intended_ to leave without him, had made sure everything was good and ready for a quick departure. But why and which way had he gone? Kid stood there in the sun, staring down the dusty street, looking for... what? Clues? Divine inspiration... When he heard a frantic hissing behind him. A boy, stable lad, frantically trying to attract his attention. Checking the Livery keeper wasn't around to hear, the boy beckoned Kid over behind a tall pile of straw bales round the back of the stable.

"Reckon I might know where your friend headed," the boy said with a sly wink.

"Uh huh? Is that a fact," Kid smiled. "OK, how much?"

The boy paused in thought. "Reckon information like that's gotta be worth... a dollar?"

"How about a dime?"

"C'mon!"

"OK, fifty cents. That's a high as I go."

The boy jingled the coins with a grin, "He headed east out of town, Mister, late last night, 'bout midnight. I knows 'cause I sleep in the barn, to guard over the horses, part of m'job," he said proudly. "Anyways, the dark haired fella in the black hat, silver trim... he woke me when he come to git his horse. I watched him ride out thataways. Hey! You won't let on to old Ramsey I told you, will you?" he said, glancing nervously over his shoulder. "He thinks folks should keep to themselves, but I could see you was friends with th'other un. Why'd he leave town without you Mister? You been fightin' over something?"

Kid shook his head. No they hadn't , that was the whole point. For once, they'd been getting on just fine. Kid couldn't think of any reason for Heyes to go off all alone. But it was now pretty obvious he'd planned it all, right down to planting a Mickey Finn in his drink the night before.

_'Well I don't get put off that easy, Heyes, you should know that by now, whatever it is you're gettin' yourself into... I smell trouble, and were there's trouble you're gonna need me there to back you up, whether you like it or not.' _

Kid hurried back to the hotel and packed his things. His thumping head was giving life a surreal feel; he felt like he alternately was floating on a cloud or wading through molasses. Determination kept him moving; kept him from falling back into he sweet embrace of that bed, those pillows. He had to get on to Heyes' trail just as fast as he could. It was gone midday already. Heyes'd left at midnight. He had a lot of ground to catch up on. He and Heyes had meant to get their horses reshod while they were in town, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. Pretty soon, Kid had picked up on the distinctive hoof prints being left by his partner's horse. He spurred his own animal on to a canter, confident that Heyes would not have been able to do this while traveling at night, so at least he could make up some time. While he was riding he cast his mind back again, trying to figure out why Heyes' behaviour had been so strange - so out of character. For a long time, he could think of nothing significant, then one or two small things started to come to mind.

They had heard there might be a job going for them in Sweetwater and Heyes had telegraphed Lom to tell him that's were they were heading. He'd had a message back almost straight away; addressed to just Joshua Smith; no mention of Thaddeus Jones. Kid saw that something in that wire had troubled Heyes, but when he asked him about it, he quickly fixed on obfuscatory face (as Kid had learned to call it), and told him it was nothing. He'd quickly thrown the telegram into the stove, so there was no chance for Kid to get a glance at it. After that, Heyes'd become very thoughtful, but Kid knew better than to pry, knew it would all come out in its own good time. Then when his partner suggested they stay over a couple of nights in Croppersville because he'd heard the gambling was good, his mood seemed to lift some, and Kid was so pleased to see Heyes seemingly back to his old smiling self, he'd readily agreed to the change of plan; pleased for the time to just kick back and have some fun before the start of another weary, boring and no-doubt, badly paid job.

Then Heyes had gone and spiked his drink, and for the umpteenth time he asked himself - why?

When Kid had started to feel the effects, Heyes had clearly taken him back to the hotel and put him to bed. Hell he'd even slipped some extra money in his pocket before he left, cause he knew he'd be leaving him with the bills to pay. Damn the man, he was trying to protect him from something again! What's the matter Heyes? You don't you think I can handle trouble? Goddamn it man, I am not a kid anymore! I've been fighting my own battles for years and a lot of yours besides, why couldn't you trust me with whatever this is?

He sighed, hard and deep. This was getting him nowhere fast. Night was drawing in. Soon he wouldn't be able to see the tracks anymore. His head still spun slightly from the effects of the drugs Heyes had slipped him. His mouth was as dry as desert bones. He needed a place to rest for the night.

The next morning Kid was late getting up - still feeling the effects of the drug, he guessed. He still felt still felt like someone had poured lead in his ears, but the pain and pounding had eased some.

He had a quick breakfast with some very black coffee and was soon off on the trail of Heyes' horse once again. He'd stopped trying to figure out what his partner was up to and started working on what he was going to do to him when he finally caught up to the man. He'd lost count of the number of arguments they'd had when Heyes decided Kid'd needed protecting; mothering. Darn it, he was ready enough to let him draw on a man, use his gun to stop a train or rob a bank; but in their day-to-day lives, he just hadn't got over the older brother routine. Well it was time he did. Kid'd had enough of it. He was gonna have to have it out with Heyes - for once and all. When he finally got a hold of him he'd tell him it he couldn't stop protecting him, start treating him like an equal, then they'd have to go their separate ways. 'Course, secretly, Kid knew he never did so well away from Heyes, but he would never admit it to his partner. He guessed Heyes didn't do so well away from Kid either - knew Heyes would never admit that to him either. Kid grinned to himself just thinking about that.

Well, he hoped that just the threat of him leaving again would make Heyes see sense. One thing was certain - he'd better have an almighty good excuse for having drugged him and all. That was _way_ beyond anything Kid could put up with. He owed him a couple of black eyes for that - and a broken jaw on top. Give him a taste of the headache he'd been carrying around with him these past couple days. But deep down, he was worried. It really wasn't like Heyes to go that far. He must have a real good reason, and Kid couldn't help thinking maybe his partner was in real trouble. _'If he goes and gets himself hurt' _he thought,_ I'll kill him.'_

It was getting to late afternoon and the tracks were looking a lot fresher now. He had to be catching up to Heyes. He'd been pushing his horse hard. The poor animal was real tired, but he didn't wanna stop, not yet - he was too close now. Better to press on and have this thing out with Heyes; get it over with.

Kid reached the top of the ridge he'd been climbing and looked down the other side to where he could see a horse and rider a little ways ahead. It was Heyes' horse and he didn't seem in any particular hurry. Kid spurred his horse into one last effort. It was all downhill from hear-on-in, the going was gonna be easier. _'You'd better have that explanation ready, Heyes,"_ Kid muttered to himself _"'Cause after I'm finished returning the favor of that headache you gave me, I'm really gonna want to hear it."_ But as got nearer, he soon realised; it was Heyes' horse alright, but the man on it's back was not Heyes. He pulled out his gun and charged at the rider, yelling to him to stop. The man - boy; kid couldn't have been more'n fifteen - glanced back; pulled up and stuck his hands in the air yelling; "Oh don't shoot! Don't shoot Mr. Jones!"

"How'd you know my name?" Kid asked. Poor lad looked petrified - and kinda relieved too. Kid lowered his gun and took a hold of the reigns.

"Mr. Smith said you would come out after me," the boy said quickly. "I'm kinda glad you caught up at long last. I been ridin all day. I'm real tired sir and I really would like to be headin home now."

"What's going on here? How'd you come to be ridin' my partner's horse?"

"Mr. Smith made me promise I would keep riding till you caught up, Sir."

"What?" Kid yelled. The boy flinched back, terrified.

"He gave me this letter to give to you, when you caught up..." The boy pulled a crumpled sheet of hotel notepaper from his pocket and handed it to Kid, who snatched it, a look of blackest thunder in his eyes. He was beginning to think that maybe Heyes had duped him yet again.

_Dear Thaddeus,_

_Congratulations buddy! I knew you'd try and track me down and I guess, (since you're reading this), you followed my trail and found poor Davey. I guess by now, your real mad at me. Sorry I had to knock you out. Hope your head didn't take it too badly. But you see, there's some things I need to take care of - alone. I'll see you in Crystal Springs on the 16th. I'll explain everything then._

_Joshua_

_P.S. Don't get mad at Davey, he was only following orders. I promise you can take it all out on me when we meet up in Crystal Springs._

"When did he give you this letter?" Kid yelled, screwing the offending missive into a tight ball and waving his fist. "Do you know where he really went?"

Kid was mad, doing just what he knew he oughtn't and taking it out on the terrified, and clueless boy.

"Look mister, Mr. Jones Sir. All I know is he came to the stables a couple of nights back, said he wanted to play a trick on his partner. I told him a good friend of mine works there, so Mr. Smith got him to tell you which way to go and asked me to meet him on the edge of town where he told me to git on his horse and ride out here. He was booked on the stage out of town heading for Sweetwater. Left real early, 'bout five in the morning. He, he said you'd find it funny."

The boy tailed off, realizing Smith's story'd been a lie and wondering just what it was he'd gone and got himself into.

Kid let out a deep sigh. Heyes had read him like a book - as usual. He knew he'd come tearing after him and had sent him in the opposite direction. If he were to turn round now and head back to Sweetwater he would never get there in time to make it back to Crystal Springs by the 16th. His horse was spent. If he tried to push him hard to get back there before Heyes, he'd likely die under him. Heyes had figured it all out. What game was he playing? What in the name of God was so important...? Well, only way Kid could see to find out was to do as he was bid and go to Crystal Springs. First he'd need to rest and feed his horse and...

Just wait until he got his hands on Heyes.

It was the 16th. Kid had been in Crystal Springs a couple days now. His humour hadn't improved any and while he waited for Heyes, kicking his heels in the saloon, drinking too much and losing at poker. Most of the townsfolks had a already decided they didn't like he look of the angry young man; didn't like the way he wore his gun, didn't like the look in his eye, didn't like the palpable air of danger he exuded from every pore screamed _gunslinger_. The 'decent element' gave him a real wide berth and whispered about him when they were certain he couldn't hear. They couldn't understand what a man like him would want in a dull, quiet little town like Crystal Springs. They would all be very pleased when he finally decided to got on his horse and rode out of town. Kid meanwhile decided to make himself comfortable while he waited for his prodigal partner to appear. He bought himself a cigar and went out on the porch to sit and smoke and watch for Heyes' arrival - he wanted him to feel the full weight of his coldest, angriest expression when he finally showed himself in town.

There was another guest out there, sitting on a can chair, reading a newspaper, enjoying the sun - until Kid's cold, brooding presence cast it's dark shadow over the warm day. And after a brief and half-hearted attempt to continue reading his paper, he had given up the struggle and gone back inside, leaving his paper flapping in the breeze.

After thirty minutes hard thinking, Kid had squeezed most of the pleasure thinking of many and varied, not to mention painful means of exacting vengeance on Heyes. But even this entertaining and satisfying pastime was getting boring after could get boring after half an hour. Kid reached for the paper and froze. For several seconds, the world around him ceased to exist and he was free-falling, felt the ground give way beneath him as he was sucked down into a dark and bottom less abyss as he read:

"**Hannibal Heyes Dead"**

He tried to focus on the rest of the article, desperately tried to make sense of the words... hut his eyes would not focus, brain wouldn't, couldn't make sense of the words. Odd phrases stood out amidst the blurred, chaotic confusion. 'Beaten to death'... 'Body found on the outskirts of town'... ''Identified by locals who knew him'... 'Body to be claimed by Cheyenne Marshal'... 'Townsfolk to claim ten thousand dollar reward...'

He wasn't sure how long he sat on the porch, not moving, not thinking. Either activity caused too much pain. Finally, his mind somehow figured he had to go there, to this town. Had to go where Heyes - where Heyes' body was. Probably be dangerous, if there were locals who knew Heyes, there was every chance they could recognize him too, were probably counting on him turning up - could be a trap, but staying away was not an option.

'Tell the truth, he really didn't know what he was gonna do the rest of his life without his partner. They'd been together all their lives, after all, _he_ was the reckless one, the gunman, the one who put his life on the line - not Heyes. Kid'd always assumed it would be he who died first, he'd never truly considered a future without Heyes.

And to die like that, beaten to death. A cruel, a horrible way to die. A cowardly way top kill a man. Kid screwed and tore at the paper that still lay in his hands as he thought about it. That Heyes had died such a dirty death without Kid there to back him up... He didn't know how he was going to live without his partner beside him, but he did know how he was going to spend the next few days - possibly the last days of his life. No man was going to do a thing like that to his partner, his family, his friend and live.

When Kid finally mounted his horse and rode out of Crystal Springs, tension lifted like a fog from that quiet little town. Few watched the man go, but those who did said after that his face was set in granite, and the eyes that had before, been merely angry were now frozen shards of pure blue ice. His heart too, seemed frozen, cold like a river stone. If there had ever been any warmth at all in that young man's soul, it was gone now, like the rocks and charcoal of a long doused fire in the cold hearth of a ruined house that had long since ceased to be a home.

Kid rode into Sweetwater. He remembered nothing of the journey, didn't notice the effects of days in the saddle. Eating had become mechanical, something he knew he had to do to keep up his strength, but regretted the time that it took. His mind was sharp, but focused on one thing only.

He knew he had to stay alert in _this_ town. Whoever it was had recognized and killed his partner could be looking for him too, and if he was to do all that he planned, he had to stay out of the hands of those who would do him harm until the job was done. After that, he didn't care. He didn't give the amnesty a second thought, what use was amnesty now? His one purpose, the only task left to him in this life was to bring justice - his own personal brand - to the man or men who had killed Heyes.

It was a very small town, with only one hotel, and that was full.

"Yes siree, we've 'come real famous," the desk clerk bragged; "Coach-loads of people coming in to see the body of Hannibal Heyes! Yes sir! 'Course, they're not letting anyone see th'actoool body 'til the Marshals get here, but for the curious multitoods, we got the clothes on display, out there in back of the General Store. For a small fee. Mr. Jake Masters will let you have a peek son. I assure you, it's well worth that small fee. Not every day a man gets to see the actual garments worn by a notorious outlaw, no sir! And they don't come more notorious than Hannibal Heyes hisself. Oh no, let me tell you."

The desk clerk suddenly looked up to see the face of the man he was talking to and his flow was plunged into sudden, welcome silence. This man did not look the kind to enjoy gossip of any kind. He surely didn't seem to be enjoying the news about the town's dead celebrity outlaw. Fact was, he didn't look the type of man he would want to pass the time of day with at all, let alone stay in his hotel. He was suddenly glad the hotel was full, and decided not to pass on the information that he was putting up cots in the basement. Fact, he decided he might just tell the Sheriff about this new stranger. He had a feeling the law might want to keep an eye on him. He'd slip across and do just that, soon as the man was well out of sight.

"Is there anyplace else I can stay?"

It sounded more like a command than a question, and although the clerk felt a civic duty _not_ to pass this man's unwelcome company on any of his fellow townsfolks, he felt he had to reply with the truth, 'cause he feared the consequences if he didn't.

"Well..." the man swallowed, tried to keep the quaver out of his voice. "Most people in town, who have a spare room would be willing to rent at the moment. You should go ask in the General Store, they might know of someone."

Kid picked up his hat and gloves and left with a curt nod to the nervy little man, who sagged with ill-concealed relief the moment his unwelcome visitor was safely back out on the dusty street.

Kid was far from oblivious to the effect his look had on the people he met, but he didn't feel inclined to tone it down. It got the job done the way it always did - whether that was getting folks to hand over the money in a bank, or getting folks to give him the information he needed. He glanced across the street where the General Store sat - an innocuous enough building. One he wouldn't have given a second thought to normally, except as a source of coffee and sugar, flour and bullets, gun oil and fresh underwear. Now, the place had the unsettling appearance of an undertakers, all the appeal of a jail or a gibbet. He ought to go over there, get it over with. He needed to see the proof, needed to convince himself, once and for all that it really was his friend whose clothes were on display there. He wasn't sure he was up to that right now. He was tired and hungry, and suddenly, terribly, terribly lonely. He turned away and went instead to the town's only restaurant. He needed to put some food in his body, and he needed as much information as he could find out what had happened to Heyes after he hit this town that fateful day.

Hilda saw the young man walk into her restaurant. He stood out amongst the dirty hard-bit cowboys she usually had to deal with. His dusty, trail-worn face only accentuated eyes that were blue as cornflowers. Her gaze wandered to the pleasing shape of his body, the attractive way the blond curls surrounded his firm jaw, and thought how was going to enjoy serving _this_ customer, but as he sat down on the hard wooden chair, she noticed how stiffly he held himself and as she got closer, all thoughts of potential pleasures were driven from her. Those eyes! Oh, they were so blue, but blue like glaciers, like deep whirlpools sucking down all warmth and life. And his face, oh it was handsome, sure enough, but held so firm, the jaw so tight, it didn't look like a smile had ever - could ever - have lit there.

"Bring me the house special and some coffee, and make it quick."

The command begged no questions, asked for no pleasant exchange and Hilda felt very disinclined to disobey.

She brought him his food, and placed it before him, intending to get away quickly as she could - but before she could turn, a firm hand gripped her arm and held her back. She wanted to complain, protest, but something in his way seemed to suck the air from the room. It was all she could do to breathe, let alone speak.  
"This Hannibal Heyes character they're all talking about; he come in here to eat?"

"Yes sir," she gasped, taking great care not to look in those eyes. So that was it, he was probably was a bounty hunter or some such. Probably been trailing Heyes; angry now that he'd missed out on his big reward. Such a shame, such a waste that a man with his looks should be such a person. Hilda despised Bounty hunters. He no longer looked the slightest bit attractive to her, in fact, just standing near him was making her sick, sending fever-shivers up and down her spine.

"When was he here?"

"A few days back."

"D'he say anything?"

"He was looking for someone, asking about a man."

"D'he say the man's name?"

"Yes, but I don't recall what is was."

"Try, think hard." His hand on her arm gripped tighter.

"You're hurting me mister, let go. You should try the saloon, he went there after eating here."

Kid let her go and downed his coffee in a gulp. He left, grabbing just a mouthful of food and went straight to the saloon.

After he'd gone, Hilda stood, rubbing her bruised arm, watching him stride purposefully towards the saloon. Then, as if recovering from a trance, she grabbed her shawl and ran down the road to go tell the sheriff what had happened here.

Kid walked into the saloon and looked around. It was crowded, clearly doing good business with all the new strangers in town. The saloon girls were all busy keeping men happy at the tables, talking and laughing and telling tales about how Hannibal Heyes had visited their saloon, each girl trying implying that the great outlaw had taken her upstairs. Kid gazed round the stinking, smoke filled room. He knew Heyes wouldn't have been interested in any of these women. If he'd come here, it was to get information. But who would he have gone to for that?

He suddenly became aware that the room had gone quiet as every eye in the place turned to stare at the latest stranger in town. Once again, Kid was ,made aware of the presence he radiated; he had gun slinger written all over him, and most everybody there started to get nervous and suddenly remember forgotten appointments and stuff they really oughtta be getting on with elsewhere. Some got up and left, while others felt themselves riveted to the spot, looking without looking - wanting to stare at the dangerous young man, yet not wanting to draw his attention to themselves. Fascinated, like a rabbit fixed in the glare of a rattlesnake.

Kid walked slowly to the bar, keeping his eyes on everyone around him, looking for a familiar face, or someone making a move for his gun. He called the reluctant bar keeper to him.

"A bottle of whiskey and six glasses, over there on that table." He pointed to a table already occupied by three men, who suddenly felt as though the world was about to cave in on them, The bartender nodded; knew why this particular man had chosen that particular table; right in the far corner of the bar, next to the back exit, and positioned such that you could see who walked into the saloon, long before they saw you.

Kid turned and addressed the rest of the folks still in the saloon. "The other glasses are for anyone who might care to tell me what happened to Hannibal Heyes while he was in town, and if I like what I hear there might be other rewards as well"

He knew most of what he was about to hear would be lies, but figured he'd know the truth when he heard it. Whatever else, it was the fastest way he could think of to uncover what he needed since everyone in town seemed out to make a buck on Heyes death.

Conversation was buzzing in the bar again, now that they knew what he was here for. Just like the rest of them he was curious about the notorious outlaw. Maybe he even knew him, but at least he wasn't gunning for any of them.

Kid strutted over to the table he had chosen, the three men there sat rooted to the spot.

"You men don't mind vacating this here table do you?" he asked.

As always, there was no question in his voice, only a command. The three men jumped up and scuttled away from the table, like startled roaches, grateful to be given the chance to escape so easy.

Kid sat down and pretty soon, people started wandering over to talk to him. They each got a drink for their trouble, and if they had something new to tell, he'd pay them a little something as well. A legend was already in the making. Most of what he was told was well rehearsed, manufactured nonsense. None of it was what Kid wanted - needed - to know. None of these liars dared look him in the eyes when they told him their tales. Most looked at their hands or the drink in front of them; the bravest of them stared at the wall over Kid's shoulder. If they had dared meet his gaze, all they'd have met would be that cold, hard stare.

Then one of the girls came over to sit at his table. Her story was of a man whose name he knew, a name that struck him with such fear and loathing, he almost wanted to go out back and be sick. He was one of two men Heyes had had thrown out of Devil's Hole some years back. Kid had only just joined up with the gang, not long after Heyes had first taken over as leader.

These two were a real mean pair. They'd beaten some bystanders in a robbery, and one of them had raped a girl. That wasn't something Heyes'd tolerate at the Hole and the boys had chased 'em out. What Heyes didn't know was that there was a Posse lying in wait outside the hideout. When these two had ridden out, they'd got jumped on right away. Heyes knew they'd be after revenge. But that wasn't the worst of it. That was what Kid had discovered after they'd already left the Hole, something that made him crazy with rage. And that was why - he knew it now - why Heyes had kept all this a secret from him. Why he'd drugged his drink sos' he couldn't up and follow him - it was all to keep him out of trouble, keep him from acting crazy and probably getting himself killed. Heyes was right to worry too, because Curry knew he'd _still_ kill the bastard if ever he was to lay hands on him. And now, it seemed, he had more - so much more to avenge.

The way the girl told it, Heyes had arranged to meet this man just outside of town. That was where his body'd been found. Who else was it could have done this vile thing to Heyes? That man had been in town later that evening, but had packed up and left, no-one knew where he was headed for, but Kid had heard enough to convince him. He knew who he was looking for now, and he had a good idea too, where he could find him. If the girl had been watching Kid's face, she'd have seen the merest clench of his jaw when he heard the news, nothing more. But she went away with the largest reward.

Right at that moment, he spotted the sheriff walk into the bar closely followed by his deputies. Kid made a fast exit out the back door. He'd left his horse tied out back of the saloon when he had arrived that morning - somehow, he'd had a feeling he might need to leave fast. He didn't want to stay in this town much longer anyhow. The place was full of people trying to make a fast buck out of being the town were Hannibal Heyes ended his career. It sickened him, but there was one place he _had_ to visit before he left town. He knew he stood no chance getting near his body - that was secured in the jail and constantly watched. But hotel desk clerk said Heyes' clothes were being exhibited at the General Store.

Kid pulled his hat down over his eyes and headed across the street, keeping a close watch in case the Sheriff came a looking for him.

He tied his horse up round the back of the General Store and walked around to the front. Before walking in the door, he paused a moment to compose himself; he took a deep breath, fixed his features in what he hoped was a look of a curious, yet innocent party, come to see the trophies, he steeled himself against what he might be about to see and strolled into the store and for a two dollar fee, was taken out back to the storeroom.

"The money's being shared out by all the town," Masters, the store owner cooed benevolently. "We're thinking of building a community hall, then we can put these here duds permanently on display, so's any member of the public who want to see 'em, kin come see em. Some good done come out of this here miscreant's life after all huh?"

The man blathered on, Kid never heard a word. Up to now he'd had just the faintest hope at the back of his mind that maybe Heyes wasn't dead, maybe it had all been some hideous mistake, but he couldn't fool himself any longer. There, neatly displayed on a table in front of him were Heyes black hat with the silver trim band, Heyes' gun, his tall leather boots, his favourite blue shirt…dear God, they even had his underwear there.

It was all too much for Kid. The whole damn town was out to make a profit on his partner's death, they hadn't even afforded him the dignity of being buried in his own clothes, they weren't being allowed to put his body on display like a stuffed bear, so they'd stripped him naked and exhibited his clothes.

A red rage gripped him. For a moment he didn't know where he was - who he was. When he recovered his wits, he found himself hitting Jake Masters; all the rage and raw emotion of the past few days exploding out of him and all focused on this one man. He probably would've killed him if he hadn't heard a voice calling from the shop. Kid pulled himself together quickly. He couldn't afford to get caught, not now, not like this. He bent down to check on the man on the floor. He pressed his finger to his neck. His face was a bloody mess,. The guy was out cold but his pulse was strong and steady. Thank God! He was still alive, not like Heyes.

Kid grabbed his partner's clothes and hurried out the back door. He wanted to set the whole place on fire, the whole town come to that, but he had to get away. He had to get a hold of himself, recover some control if he was going to get the revenge he wanted. The town could wait, hell, he could come back here anytime' come when they least expected it. Right now, there was a more important job to do. Find Heyes' killer and deal with him the way he deserved. With no more doubt in his mind that Heyes was dead, Kid mounted up and spurred his horse down the road out of town, ready to track down Heyes' killer.

Kid rode long and hard, trying to get away from that town. He'd almost lost it back there - God, he might've killed the guy! Couldn't afford to lose himself that way, let such a thing happen again. That's why he needed Heyes, had always needed him. Heyes could see when Kid was about to let his temper get the better of him. He could always bring him back down to earth, letting Kid channel his rage into more constructive emotions.

But Heyes was gone now. He had to keep reminding himself of that, hard as it was. Heyes was gone. Was never coming back. Kid had to find a new focus for his life, a new way to go on living.

He was suddenly acutely aware of how exhausted he was; about ready to drop out of the saddle. He'd been living on the razor edge of raw and brittle nerves for so long. He needed to find a safe place to bed down for the night, wash that last place off of him and get some sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a decent nights sleep. Tell the truth, he didn't expect to get one tonight either - knew the nightmares and the confusing, fevered thoughts that lay in wait for him when he finally got to close his tired eyes. But if he was to make any progress tracking down Heyes killer, he had to make some attempt to eat and rest, so's he'd be ready, when the time came.

Kid made sure he'd put as many miles of rough road between him and that town before he finally had to stop, finding a quiet spot by a stream, well hidden from the road.

He set up his lonely camp, washed himself thoroughly in the stream and went through the mechanics of cooking up a meal. He didn't taste it, wasn't hungry; he ate because he knew he had to eat. He was back to feeling nothing, had built a dam in his mind to keep back the rushing tide of jumbled thoughts and painful emotions that swept over him whenever he dared to let down his defences. Feelings that threatened to overwhelm him if he allowed so much as a crack in his carefully constructed mental walls. So he closed all that off, refused to let those feelings in, numbing himself in the dull, routine tasks of camp life; eating, resting, preparing for sleep, cleaning his gun, he needed to be ready. He'd left Heyes' clothes in his saddle bags, unable to look at them again. He didn't know what he was going to do with them, but they were the only bit of his friend he had left.

The painful realization of all he had lost threatened to rush in on him again. It was suddenly too much effort to finish his food. Even the sound of the steam was hurting his ears. Why should that stream carry on running as if everything was normal? Why should anything - everything - just go on as if things were the same. As if nothing had changed when life could never be the same again. Kid closed his eyes, blanking out the red rage, the darkness in his soul. Blanketed it all in a dull gray mist. There would be a time to let the rage and anger through. Now was not that time. He lay his head back against a moss covered rock and let the mist of nothingness envelope him; take him over as if it were the only living thing left in the world. The sound of a gun being cocked inches from his face woke him with a start.

"Mr. Curry I presume?"

Kid looked into the dull gray eyes of a man wearing a big tin star. The man didn't return the gesture, avoiding Kid's eyes as he spoke.

"I believe you took some things that belonged to us when you left town in such a hurry. We'd kinda like them back, and we'd like you to come back with us as well ifn you don't mind. We got a nice cell all ready and waitin fer you, Mr. Curry. And, seein' as you and Hannibal Heyes've been so gosh darned close fer all these years, we gonna put you right next door to each other. Course you won't be able to share any cozy little chats about the old days, what with him being all snug, shut up in a wooden box and all... but I thought you'd appreciate the gesture, givin two old friends adjoining cells.

"D'you find the clothes John?" He called to his deputy who was busy rifling through Kid's bags.

"Yup, they're here. We kin put them back on display soon as we git back."

Kid suddenly wished he'd burned them.

"How'd you find me so quick?" he growled at the Sheriff .

"Hired us-selves a special tracker. Knew you turn up sooner or later. Only wish I'd cottoned on to you sooner, then Jake wouldn't have got hurt. We owe you for that one, Curry, don't you forget it. And don't forget you're wanted dead or alive, neither, cause I'd dearly love to have both sets of clothes fer our new Community Hall"

Kid never said another word.

"Tie him up John, real tight and tie him to his horse too. He's a tricky one. Don't want him gittin away from us after all the trouble he's caused."

The sun was not long up and there was very little warmth in it. The posse of men should have felt elated; they'd found their man, were bringing him back alive to display in their jail. hell! They'd got Hannibal Heyes _and_ his partner Kid Curry too! Their town would be on the map now for sure. But the dank morning air and the cold, dark chill that radiated off their prisoner dampened their mood, making for a quiet, morose ride back to town.

Not that Curry seemed inclined to give them any trouble. On the contrary, he'd given in a whole lot easier than they'd ever imagined. Man hardly seemed to know they were there. Didn't even murmur or complain when John tied him up so tight. Far from the hot-tempered, unpredictable killer of reputation; he seemed quiet and subdued; downright peaceable in fact. He seemed like a man who'd given up on life.

The whole town came out to greet the heroes as they rode home with their illustrious prisoner in tow. Now they could boast of having both halves of the notorious partnership in their jail. Folks clamoured to get a closer look at Curry as he rode in, but Curry kept his head down, refusing to be baited, refusing to acknowledge the taunts and cheering as he was dragged from his mount and frog-marched into the jail.

Kid was pushed into a cell, his ropes removed, the sheriff turned the key in the lock and he was left alone. Alone, staring into the cell next to his where a crude wooden coffin lay on the floor.

And there he stayed, not moving, hardly seeming to breathe as he sat on the bed, staring ahead.

A constant stream of visitors threw insults, jeered and laughed at him. Kid never answered, never turned or acknowledged that there was anyone else in the world but himself and the man in the pine coffin. Pretty soon, the people realised they weren't going to get a rise out of him. The game lost it's flavour and the people stopped coming. Meals arrived, to be taken out again untouched. The sun set. The streets became quiet and darkness descended on the moldy jailhouse. As the rats began scratching in dark corners, Kid finally moved. He lay down on the bed and turned his face to the box.

"I'm sorry, Heyes," he sighed. "I let you down. I tried, but I couldn't make it without you. The town's going to get its Community Hall after all and then some. But I swear, I'm not going to let the man who did this to you get away. There'll be men in that prison, just about to be released, who'll do anything for a price. Or I'll get word, somehow, to the Devils Hole boys; they'll come up with the money. I swear I won't let him get away, no matter what. And if I make it out alive, I'll come back to this town and tear down their hall, even if I have to do it one piece at a time."

He closed his eyes to shut out the pain he felt looking at that box. But no sleep came, just more of that mist; the endless nothing that was now his whole world.

Hannibal Heyes was sitting in the stagecoach, deep in thought. In another couple hours they would be in Sweetwater and he still hadn't decided what he was going to do.

When he first got Lom's telegram telling him Alec Mason was in Sweetwater, his first and immediate thought was that that he _had_ to hide this from the Kid. Alec Mason and Jake Gilbert had been with the Devil's Hole Gang for a very brief time. Heyes soon discovered both men were mean as bears in October and when Heyes found out what they'd done to some of the passengers on the train they'd just robbed, he drove them out straight away.

Shame of it was, Alec was a clever man; Heyes could've used him if he hadn't been so all-fired evil, but the worst was yet to come. A couple of days before they'd left to do the raid, some of the men had gone into town to relax, with strict instructions not to get drunk and to get back early. Heyes and the Kid had stayed behind to put the final touches to the plan.

Some days after the raid and after Alec and Jake had been arrested coming out of the Hole, Curry and Heyes had gone to that same town to spend a little of their ill-gotten gains on a little relaxation. While they were there, they heard from the girls at the Boomtown Saloon how Alec had gotten hold of little Sheila and had beaten her so bad that she was still laid up in bed. The girls said they thought she'd never be able to work again, her face was marked so bad. Worse even that that, the doctor said he wasn't even sure she'd even walk again.

Sheila'd been one of Kid's favorites, she went way back with the both of them and had saved their lives on more than one occasion. She was a little older than Kid and not always the first choice of the men who came top the bar, but those that knew her would always go to her. She never wanted to charge Kid, she knew what he was but she liked him, enjoyed his company, and he always left her a generous tip at the end of the day. Kid knew she was saving up to get out of the business, Heyes had never been with her himself, didn't seem quite right with Kid so soft on her, but he loved her just the same.

When they saw what Alec had done, both of them felt sick to their stomachs and Kid vowed if ever he laid eyes on him again he would kill him, and Heyes still believed that he would. Saw no way he would ever reason him out of it - and wasn't really sure that he would want to either. It would be like taking on Danny Bilson all over again, cept that Alec couldn't shoot as straight as Danny and Heyes would have had less reason to worry if it came to a showdown.

But... The amnesty. The amnesty was just too important. He didn't want Kid throwing his chance at a future away over this low life. Heyes wanted revenge just as bad as the Kid. He just needed the time to figure how he was going to get it without jeopardizing their amnesty, or risking their lives and freedom.

Lom's telegram had been a warning. Lom knew Mason blamed Heyes for his capture and time in the State Pen. Heyes assumed the job offer was a trap, set up by Mason in revenge for what he'd always believed was a deliberate set-up on Heyes' part. Course, Heyes never knew a posse was lying in wait - it could have been him and Kid who'd been caught, or any of the gang. It only happened to be Mason and Gilbert because of their ignominious dismissal from the gang. Fact is, Heyes had always suspected that it was because of their ill-treatment of those passengers that the posse had dared get so close to the hideout - it was something that had never happened before or since. But that kind of behaviour was enough to get men's blood up enough to ride right into Devil's Hole looking for vengeance.

Whatever the reasons - Heyes knew he had to keep Kid out of it. He was too hot-headed, too impulsive to keep a cool head where Mason was concerned. He had to be sure Kid would not - could not - follow him. Drugging him seemed a drastic solution, but it was a the only fool-proof way Heyes could come up with in the time available to him. He needed four clear days and if Kid thought it through clearly, he'd go to Crystal Springs as requested and Heyes would meet him there. He'd have to take the consequences after, of course. He knew Kid would be real mad at him by now - but he had to keep him away from Sweetwater, had to deal with this alone. But he did feel kinda lonely without him.

Heyes arrived in Sweetwater about midday after a day and a half's hard traveling. As the name suggested, the town had grown up around a spring of clear mountain water, but had never amounted to much more than a stopover for weary travelers. The town was small, close knit. A stranger like Alec should be easy to track down - if he was here. Heyes was very aware he'd have to watch his back very carefully. If this was a set-up - as he and Lom suspected - he was alone with a vicious killer busy baiting traps for him. And no Kid to back him up. Not for the first time, Heyes began to feel murmurs of regret that he hadn't brought his partner along with him after all.

He realised he was hungry. The restaurant across the street from the stage depot seemed as good a place as any to start asking questions, so he went inside and took a seat. The young lady serving there was friendly and helpful and more than happy to pass the time of day as well as provide him with some of the best stew he'd eaten in about as long as he could remember. But she'd never heard of Alec, and couldn't remember anyone that fitted his description either, but then there was nothing remarkable about Mason, his description would fit a lot of folks.

"We're only be a small town, Mr. Smith, but with the stage depot sittin just over the road, we get a lot of strangers passing through stopping over for a bite to eat and a cup of coffee along the way. This is a very small town; don't know if we'd do enough business with just the local trade. You should try askin in the saloon. The kind of man you're describing, well, sounds more like a saloon kind of guy."

Heyes thanked her, and made his way over to the town's only bar. She watched him go, noting the way his hips swayed and the confident way he walked and wished she had had more information to give him. Kinda hoped he'd maybe be back come supper time. She'd got some dumplings, her own secret recipe she'd rustle up for him special.

Heyes walked into the saloon, watching the punters, keeping eyes in the back of his head. There was some poker going on, just a handful of men drinking quietly, including the driver and guard from his stage, resting up before they had to drive out again. It was still early, and the room was pretty quiet, just a couple of languid girls working the room and a tired looking barman. A few heads turned his way as he walked in, but most kept on with their dull pursuit of pleasure. Heyes got a nod from one of the other passengers who'd come in on the stage with him, but he didn't feel inclined to start up a conversation. He was only interested in talking to those who could help him in his goal of finding Alec Mason - before he found him.

"What can I get yer?" the barman asked.

"A glass of whiskey and some information," Heyes replied

"Well, a glass of whiskey's no problem, son, but the information might cost you." he said.

"I'm looking for a man, 'bout my height, late thirties, short dark hair. Last time we met, he was going by the name of Alec Mason."

"Can't say I remember anyone with that name," he said. "Better off askin the girls. They get to talk with most of the men that comes in here, more likely t'be on first name terms with em than me anyways. But they won't tell yer nothing lessn you buy em a drink and tip m somethin'"

The man held up a bottle of expensive looking whiskey with a grin.

Heyes nodded and gestured for the bottle - "and some clean glasses," he said, flipping a twenty dollar piece on to the bar.

One of the girls came over right away. There was little else going on in the bar. She was bored and kinda liked the look of this stranger. She'd rather share a drink with him than pretty much any one else in the bar and who knew... maybe the man was looking for something more than he r company. God knows, she needed the money.

"Alec Mason? Why'd you wanna see him?" she asked Heyes with a look of disgust. "Sure I know him! That man's one mean son of a bitch. Meaner still when he's been drinking, got a habit of taking out his temper with his fists."

"That sounds like him."

"Well I hope you're not his friend mister because... You won't tell him I said any of this will you? Only, he's sure to cut up rough if he knows I've been sayin stuff behind his back and all..."

Heyes poured the girl a stiff drink. "I promise you, the last thing Mason wants to do is pass the time of day with me," Heyes smiled.

"Well, OK," the girl smiled back, Heyes charm soothing away her panic. "Look. I finish here at three, don't have to be back at work till tonight. I know where he's staying. I can go see him, tell him you're here looking for him. If you make it worth my while?" she smiled.

"Why don't you just let me know where he is?"

"I told you why! What if he finds out? I'm telling you, he'd kill me if he knew I'd been passing on information about him to strangers..."

"OK. OK..."

"If we make a deal, you gotta trust me. And you got to promise not to try and follow me neither, I won't do it if I catch you following..."

"OK! I promise!" Heyes said, slipping ten dollars to her under the table. As the clock struck three, the girl grabbed her shawl and with a nervous nod in Heyes' direction, she left the saloon and went out the back door.

Heyes decided he might as well wait it out in the saloon, so he played a little poker, he flirted with some of the girls, but his mind was elsewhere, still trying to decide exactly what he was going to do when he met up with Alec Mason.

It was sometime around about 8 O'clock when the girl came back. It was just showing signs of getting dark outside and the saloon was starting to get busy as she passed through the door and came over to where Heyes was sitting, waiting for her.

"He agreed to meet with you. There's a little place just outside of town, an old watering hole, if you ride due east you can't miss it."

"Did he look pleased to be meeting me?"

"You never can tell with that one. He said he'd be there at ten, so you've got two hours." She hesitated slightly, then slid her hand across his knee. "Do you, maybe, wanna come upstairs? You gonna get awful bored just sitting here a waitin."

"Oh," Heyes smiled. "No thanks. Another time maybe? I think I'm gonna go check out this water hole while there's still some light. I don't think I wanna meet with any surprises from Mason."

Once again, Heyes was acutely aware he was on his own and wished he'd been able to bring the Kid with him. He felt kinda vulnerable in this situation. He just hoped his famed silver tongue was going to keep the situation cool enough to find out just what it was Alec was really up to.

He had no trouble finding the place and approached it cautiously with his gun already drawn. There was no sign of Alec so Heyes took his time finding a safe place to wait till he turned up.

"Preferably one with solid rock behind me and a quick get away to the side," he thought. He could see just the place ahead, but as he approached, Alec suddenly stepped out with a gun on Heyes and a pleased and sickly grin on his face.

"Heyes! I can't tell you what a pleasure it is to see you again after so many years. I've been looking forward to this day for a long, long time."

Heyes could swear he heard a trap snap shut. He made sure his face and voice betrayed none of what he was feeling when he said, "Well hi there Alec, you're looking well. Your spell in prison ain't hardly aged you at all."

"See the Kid ain't with yer. Pity. I wuz lookin forward to dealin with the both of yer. Whassamatter? Hoping to sweetalk yer way out as usual? Ain't gonna do you or the Kid no good anyhow, you leavin him behind. I'll get after him soon as I've done with you Heyes."

Both men still stood with his gun pointed squarely at the other

"There ain't nothing to talk myself out of Alec," Heyes went on. "I didn't know that posse was there. If I'd set you up, you would have had a whole load of extra charges to answer, you know how much I could have told. It was pure coincidence, my asking you to leave just as they set themselves up to catch us. It could have been any one of the boys that rode into that trap. You and Gilbert just happened to be the unlucky ones. How about you and me put these guns away 'fore we hurt each other and just talk?"

"OK Heyes, that's what you want." And Mason's smile spread even wider across his face as he reholstered his gun. "You really should have brought the Kid with you. You had, you really wouldn't be in this predicament now, would you?" he grinned. "Well, never mind, huh? Him not being here works out just fine for me, if not for you."

Heyes was putting his gun back in his belt when the blow fell.

"No back up, y' see Heyes."

Heyes heard Mason's words - distant, as if he was shouting form a long way off - as the ground came up to meet him.

"OK, thanks Bill I can handle everything from here," Mason said. "I'll meet you outside Ferrell in four days. Make sure you don't go into town till I've told you my plan. It could spoil everything if you're seen in town before that."

"OK Alec, if you're sure you don't need me."

"I won't need you. Heyes here ain't gonna give me any trouble," Mason grinned at the prone form, kicking him hard, just to be sure he was really out cold.

Hard slaps to the face brought Heyes round with a jolt.

"Nice of you to join me, 'gain Heyes. Knowin how you love to chit chat and all, I thought you'd kinda like me to explain a little of what is going to happen to yer now."'

Heyes opened his eyes to see Mason sitting on a tree stump, leering down on him; a look of triumph on his face. His head felt as if it had been split open like a watermelon. A quick shake reassured him that it was still attached to his neck, but also set up a firestorm of shooting stars and blinding pains. He shut his eyes again. If he couldn't help but hear Mason's grinning lecture, he didn't have to watch his ugly face tell it too.

"See, I've thought long and hard about all this. While I wuz in prison, and since I come out, I've had plenty of time to plan things out and know what...?" He nudged Heyes hard in the ribs till he got a muffled'

"What?"

"Well so far, you've obliged me plenty by doing just exactly what I expected you too. Guess I must be a genius too huh Heyes? If I kin second guess you that good?" The man laughed like a hyena.

"See, prison changed me a lot. They don't treat you well in there, Heyes. You don't git too much to eat,they hurt you bad every chance they git and take away yer dignity. That's the worst you know. You lose all self respect and at first, I thought I'd be happy just to know I'd put you inside them walls, behind them bars too. What do you think you'd git huh Heyes? Twenty years, more? That's a long _long _time. Men've gone mad in less, lot less time than that. Lot of 'em die 'fore they get anywhere near the end of a twenty year sentence.

"And I thought that would be enough, you know, I truly did. But then, I got to thinking, that wouldn't be much fun for me, you know? I wouldn't be able to _watch_ you suffer. And I want to watch you suffer, Heyes. I want you to hurt the way you hurt me. And that's when I came up with this plan. This little bear trap that you've just walked right into. So you better get yourself ready old buddy, cause your nightmare's about to begin."

Heyes watched Mason, barely able to stay conscious. His head was killing him, black spots bounced over his vision every time he moved. He was bound tight, hand and foot. He couldn't see any way to get loose, escape from this mad man, Heyes was sure that's what he was. Heyes could see it in his eyes and he was very afraid. Afraid for himself, because he knew he was about to go through a very bad time, and afraid for Kid, who he knew would pretty soon be coming to look for him and assuming he got past Mason, didn't end up in the same trap Heyes had when he found out who it was he was chasing would hunt down and kill Alec Mason and so destroy any chance he might have had for the amnesty and a future.

Heyes saw the fist coming from the corner of his eye, but he never felt it land, having already slipped away, back into the darkness before it connected with his face.

Heyes was hot. He could feel the sweat making his clothes cling to his body. It trickled streams up his face. Hold on, why was the sweat moving up his face? Slowly his wits returned. He became aware of his situation - tied tight over a horse and wrapped in a blanket.

My God, no wonder he was so hot. The sun beat down out of a cloudless summer sky - no time to be riding around, covered in a thick woolen blanket that stunk of horse.

Then he remembered Alec. A feeling of dread and barely held back panic swept over him. He began to search himself mentally, checking for injuries that could impede escape if the chance presented. A thundering headache was his most pressing hurt. He remembered to being hit from behind - wasn't quite sure who he had to thank for that - a bruise on his face that wasn't being helped by the gag, and his ribs felt sore, but then that could have been caused be the awkward position he currently found himself in.

Apart from that he didn't seem to be badly injured - yet. Maybe old Alec had relented and was going to simply turn him in. Not very likely... or maybe he had something else planned?

Heyes had no idea how long they'd been riding. It had been dark when he'd passed out. With this blanket on him, he couldn't see the sun, so couldn't say what time it was, but from the heat burning down on him, it had to be past noon. Alec must be hurrying to get somewhere - a wise man would rest and water his horse at this time and save travelling till it had cooled some.

As if the man had read his thoughts, Heyes felt his horse stop. His bounds were loosened and his body unceremoniously dumped on the ground. He grunted in pain and got a boot in the ribs as a reward.

"You enjoying the ride Heyes?" Goddamn that whining voice of his Heyes thought as the man went on;

"Gotta rest the horses. Hope you don't mind, but we've still got a ways to go."

Heyes realised the way it was going to go when Mason left him tied ion the blanket, under the full force of the noon day sun. He could hear water flowing somewhere near, then the horses were led away, but Heyes was left laying where he'd fallen. God he was thirsty. Last drink he'd had was the whiskey in the bar last night - couldn't remember when he'd last had any water.

Heyes knew he must have passed ot, must have been a long time under too. When he regained consciousness, it was way cooler than before and he was back on the horse. Prison must have made the man strong - he seemed to have no trouble lifting Heyes off and on the horse.

Heyes knew he must be drifting in and out of consciousness because he suddenly found they were riding up a steep slope; climbing higher. Heyes prayed this wasn't gonna last much longer, he was feeling real sick now. His head was thumping loud enough to waken the dead. He felt himself about to faint again. Hhe kinda welcomed the darkness, to take him out of this slow torture, but this time his body stayed resolutely awake.

Eventually, they stopped and once again Heyes was dumped down on the ground. Even through the blanket he figured it had to be night; the cool air, and the night sounds told him that. He felt muzzy and thick headed, but Mason obliged him with three swift kicks to his back this time, to which he couldn't help but respond.

"Good night Heyes, pleasant dreams," the man laughed. "Come the morning, I'll git that blanket off of you, let you see just exactly where it is I've brung you. I kin tell you, the scenery's just breathtaking! I hope you like it, cuz you're gonna be here a long time. I'm off to have m'supper now and a nice long, cool drink of mountain water. So, I'll bid you goodnight Heyes. I'll see you tomorrow."

Heyes was feeling way too sick to eat but he sure as hell could do with a drink. He tested the ropes around him for the umpteenth time, but came to the same conclusion as before; he wasn't going anywhere.

"Wouldn't move around too much Heyes," Mason called with laughter in his voice. "There's a sheer drop down the side of the hill. It's right next to where you're laying. Hate to think of you killing yourself 'fore I've had my fun."

Heyes heard Alec laughing as he moved to sleep by the crackling fire, it's heat too far to be any use to him. His sweat soaked body now trembling violently in the cold night air. He settled himself as best he could, tried to curl against the shivering cold, and resigned himself to an uncomfortable and sleepless night.

The next morning dawned and Heyes was roused from a fitful, restless sleep as the ropes around his body were cut away and he was tipped out of the blanket on to the stony ground, his legs and arms were still tightly bound and he lay still, stiff and winded, trying to breathe against the searing pain that seemed to grip him in a vise.

Alec slapped him firmly around the face. "Open your eyes, Heyes. C'mon!"

Heyes did as he was told, screwing his eyes tight shut again as the shock of sudden light hit his tortured retinas.

Alec chuckled. "Well ain't we the sleepy head this morning? I'm just gonna have m' breakfast. You hungry? I'll bet you are. Well that's too bad.

"You really oughta open them big brown eyes o' yourn Heyes. Take a good look round and enjoy the view. On second thoughts, might as well sleep in. You'll have plenty of opportunity to take in the scenery. You'll be seeing nothing else for the next few days. Fact..." Alec smirked, stirring the fire, "this is the last place on earth you'll ever see. But don't worry yet awhile, I ain't gonna kill yer right away. I've got to have my fun first. I got a few things they done to me in prison, Heyes I thought you oughta try. Git a feel fer what me an' Jake went through on account o' you. I've been planning this a long time, ever since you drove me out of the Hole." He chuckled to himself, a high, shrill little laugh that made Heyes shiver despite the morning sun, already beating down, fierce and hot, drying the dew and the sweat on his back.

Heyes was now convinced Alec was mad. Maybe his time in jail had pushed him over the edge? He knew, even if he could loosen the gag, the man was beyond being reasoned with. Heyes' greatest weapon - his silver tongue - was useless to him. He had to come up with some other way to break loose and get away from here.

He looked around him - to the north of where they were was a cliff face where Alec had made his camp. It was sheltered under an overhang - good place to camp, out of any wind if it blew from the north, but also shaded from the sun, which was more important this time of year. It even had its own trickle of water running down it in the far corner, before it disappeared underground. The area in front was flat and that was where Alec was now, making a show of enjoying his breakfast. Just behind Heyes to the south and east was the sheer drop Alec had warned him about last night. He was laying very close to it and was glad he had heeded the man's advice not to shift about too much

"Do you want some water Heyes?" Alec said, interrupting his thoughts as he held the canteen out to him.

Heyes hardened his eyes, knowing the game. Make a show of drinking in front of a man dying of thirst. Not very imaginative, Heyes thought. But Alec was still standing there, holding out the water. Heyes expected him to pour it out on the ground in front of him. But Alec carefully placed the canteen down on the ground, then cut the ropes binding his arms. Then backed away, towards the camp fire, keeping his gun trained on Heyes the whole time.

The rush of pain that came as his arms were released made Heyes cry out despite the gag and for the moment all he could do was lay on the ground, hugging his arms about him.

"C'mon Heyes," Alec sneered, impatiently. "Stop whimperin like a baby, untie yourself, take the gag off, git some water."

Heyes was puzzled now. This was so far removed from what he'd been expecting. He worked his arms and fingers, trying to get enough movement in them so he could take a much needed drink, but he'd been tied for so long. It took several minutes just to lift his arms and many more before his fingers would respond to his need to pick up the canteen. Eventually, he was able to drag the gag from his mouth. He grabbed the canteen and took a long, hard drink. His hands shook and much of the precious liquid spilled over his face and down his shirt, but it felt so good to pour water down his parched throat. He had to force himself not to drain the bottle. He didn't want to throw up. A case of heaves in his present condition didn't bear thinking about He glanced up at Alec, saw that insane grin. Was the water poisoned? Was that it? No he'd seen Alec drinking from the same canteen, so what was the crazy loon grinning about?

"Enjoying that, Heyes?"

Heyes took another swig, wondering what was coming next. 'Man seemed a little calmer. Maybe it was worth just one more try to reach him.

"I knew nothing about that Posse, Alec."

"You already said that, Heyes. But it was 'cause of you that we rode out into it."

"But if I'd known…"

"I don't _care_, Heyes! You caused me and Jake to get caught, now I want to give you a taste of what we had to endure. Drink the rest of that water. It's the last you'll be getting for a long while."

"I don't suppose you have any of that breakfast to spare?"

Alec laughed out load. "No Heyes, no breakfast. But if you're real good, I might think to bring you something back with me."

"You going somewhere?" Heyes asked, stalling for time. He began untying his feet, watching for any opening to free himself and get out of here, because he really felt he was not going to like what Alec had planned for him.

"That's right, Heyes, I've got to go take care of that friend of yours, I'm hoping to kill two birds with one stone on that one. You're a big one fer clever plots and schemes, man of genius they do say. You'll enjoy hearing what I've got planned."

"Yeah?" Heyes was working the muscles in his legs now, trying to get them working so he could move quickly when the chance arose.

"But I won't spoil the suspense of telling it all to yer now. I'll tell you later, after..." He chuckled. "Well, you look about ready, now, Heyes."

Alec stood, gesturing round with his gun. "Lovely spot ain't it? Indian holy place. They used to come up here and meditate for days. Has everything they needed, big, open skies, running water, spectacular views, all the glories of nature!" He yelled, laughing; his cracked and crazy voice echoing off the stark cliffs around them. "Some folks say it's haunted. That the ghosts of all them Indian holy men still walk here, that on a quiet night, you kin still here them chanting and wailing. S' why no one comes here no more."

"What's all that got to do with me?"

"Nothing," Alec said, suddenly calm, turning cold, intense, insane eyes back on his captive. "I just thought you'd like to know, is all," he shrugged. "Do you... d'you think you can stand OK now Heyes? Cause I'd really like fer you to stand up now."

Heyes obliged, a little unsteady, but glad of the opportunity to restore his circulation.

"Now. I want you to take off all of yer clothes and put them down on this here rock."

"What! Aw, come on, Alec! What's this all about? Why'd you want me to do something like that?"

"I have my reasons. Now, you git on and take em off, Heyes. Just do it. Don't be shy. Y'ain't got nothing I ain't seen before." Alec's smile had disappeared. He had a look of cold eyed, steely anger that Heyes didn't like at all.

"Alec, this has gone far enough. I ain't gonna do a fool thing like that unless you tell me."

A bullet passed by so close, hitting the rock beside him, deafening Heyes and throwing up razor sharp shards of granite that sliced into his thigh. Heyes thought it best to do as he was bid. He took off his shirt and stood bare chested with growing trepidation

"All of your clothes, Heyes, I don't want you to leave anything on."

Heyes took off his boots, then his pants, and all the time keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the madman with the gun.

"Alec," he tried again. "I don't know what you're planning, but…"

This time the bullet didn't miss and Heyes grabbed at his arm to stench the blood flowing freely, dripping down to soak into the dry sand.

"I'm not as good a shot as Curry," Alec drawled. "I can't promise I can keep missing like this."

Heyes knew that it was useless. He continued to undress, mind working overtime, still trying to find that opening, the way out of this mess. But he couldn't do much if he was all shot up... He took off his underwear and stood waiting for what was to come.

"Right now, straighten that blanket out and lay face down on it with your hands behind your back."

"No Alex, not again! Look, it isn't necessary..."

The next bullet caught him on his left side, just above the hip. Heyes cried out in shock and pain. Just a flesh wound, but it still hurt like crazy.

"Lucky again, Heyes! Am I gonna havta empty my gun into you 'fore you do as you're told?"

Heyes lay down on the blanket before he fell down. Alec got behind him, tying the rope back on his grazed and bleeding wrists. He wrapped another rope around his elbows, putting his boot between Heyes' shoulder blades so he could pull the ropes tight - so tight Heyes thought his arms would come right out of their sockets. Fighting not to give Alec the satisfaction of hearing him groan, Heyes ground his teeth as his legs and ankles were also tied, rough hemp biting into already abused flesh. Then Alec wrapped him up in the blanket so tight he couldn't move at all. As Heyes fought to breathe, he was dragged over towards the cliff and finally left so close to the edge, he could feel the hot air rising from the deep canyon and hear the faint roaring of the river, hundreds of feet below.

"Make yourself comfortable there, Heyes," Alec said, moving away. "I'll be back in three or four days, see how your getting on. You should be grateful for that blanket. The sun's mighty fierce up here. Without it, you'd probably roast to death. Oh, and don't forget, don't shift around too much or you might fall, and I surely would hate to have you go and die on me so soon when I've hardly even begun to have fun with yer."

Heyes could hear Alex chuckling to himself as he packed up to go. He was tied so tight, he could hardly move at all. His wounds were bleeding, making him weak; faint and nauseous. He was already sweating hard into the thick woolen blanket. Without water, he doubted he'd last even one day, let alone three. The ropes were biting, it was so hard to breathe. He'd never make it. Trying hard to swallow down the panic that threatened to strangle him faster than the choking ropes, he heard Alec singing happily to himself as he rode out down the trail.

_"I'm a stranger here. A stranger everywhere..."_

Heyes prayed for clouds to blot out the burning sun, prayed for rain, prayed that Alec's business would bring him back here soon, before he suffocated, choked, roasted or bled to death. He prayed and plotted hard as he was able, neither bringing him either hope or relief. He knew Alec had gone after Kid. Though Kid had no part in Alec and Jake's dismissal from the Hole - banishment, that led to their capture by that posse. That wasn't the point. The idea was to wound Heyes as deeply as he could, and Alec knew Heyes well enough to know the best, most effective injury he could inflict on him was to take away the only thing Heyes truly loved. Kill Kid and you kill Heyes too. Even if Alec let him live, he knew, without Kid, it would be a living death. Two birds with one stone indeed.

And there was nothing, _nothing_ he could do about it laying, trussed up here. He'd tried so hard to work his way loose but it was hopeless. Alec had tied him tighter'n a three day drunk on a gold strike. In his frustration and panic, he'd fought so hard against the ropes that bound him he almost went over the cliff edge. That had scared him badly. In his long hours of torment, Heyes had wondered if it wouldn't be better to just roll gently to the edge and let himself fall. By the middle of the second day, when the sun beat down so hard he thought he was burning alive, could fancy he could smell his own flesh roasting - he'd truly wanted to die, until he almost had. Now his only desire was to survive; stay alive long enough to deal with Alec when he finally returned. The thought of Kid, already dead, or in terrible danger his only thought, the need for revenge the only thing keeping him alive.

Not that Alec would let him live very long. He'd play with him, torture him some for a few days, but Heyes was under no illusion as to the final outcome of Alec's little game.

He shifted as best he could in the tight confines of the blanket, shivering violently now - either from the bitter night air or the start of a fever, he didn't know. The wound to his arm itched and throbbed - probably getting infected. He hadn't given the injury too much thought; it wasn't the prime cause of his suffering, which was this burning, aching, increasingly desperate thirst , an excruciating, soul-destroying torment that tore at his whole being every second of every minute of every hour. It was the worst agony he had ever endured, and it was getting worse.

How much longer could he last? He had a plan. But would he be alive to carry it out?

Rousing from sleep - a deep, drowsing, fevered doze filled with inexplicable dreams and dark nightmares, Heyes slowly became aware that someone was giving him water. _Was_ he awake? Or was this just another dream? He'd been fooled like this before.

Some of the water trickled off his chin and down his bare chest, the shock of cold water on such hot skin finally shaking some of the fog from his brain. He tried to wipe the water away, but he couldn't move. He knew he was no longer tied, but his limbs had been pinned so long, nothing seemed to function anymore. With a grunt and a moan, he managed to shift his body to lay on its' side, taking the weight off his arms, letting blood flow back into places it had been denied for almost three days. The initial relief was indescribable - quickly followed by equally unutterable agony as the circulation returned. Heyes screamed, couldn't help himself as he tried to curl his tortured body against the horrible pains that shook him head to toe.

After a while, his body slowly began to recover. He started to breathe again, and realised someone was talking to him. It took a while for his fever clouded mind to focus; distinguish individual words out of the murmuring sound - a familiar voice. Alec.

He was crouched down a little way off, giggling, talking away, boasting about what he'd done. Heyes didn't care what he'd done, didn't wanna listen to Alec's boasting and preening. What he needed was more water. He needed to stretch out, to move, to try and get some strength back into his body. Until he realised Alec was talking about Kid. What he'd done to Kid. Heyes stopped dead and listened.

"...Met old Bill outside of Ferrell. Gave him your clothes to wear, Heyes. Give him money too. Told him how ta git into town, have fun, and be sure ta let them saloon gals know that he was Hannibal Heyes and he was lookin fer a guy name of Jake Gilbert..."

Alec's old partner, Heyes thought, wondering how Kid fit into all of this.

"...Wanted to meet up with old friend Jake outside of town. See, I knew Jake would run ten mile rather than run into Hannibal Heyes on account of what happened to that little filly... What was her name?"

"Sheila," Heyes said, his throat tight. He knew a coward like Bill would have been mortally afraid, ready to believe Heyes would kill him for what he'd done to that girl.

"Sheila! That was it. Anyhow, he never got further than the city limits, cause I was waitin for him. I beat him to death, Heyes, with my bare hands."

Heyes felt sick. Sick at the thoughts of what this crazy man was capable of. Sick wondering where the rest of this twisted tale was heading.

"I went back into town. Slipped by the hotel to wash off the blood," he laughed. "Then went by the saloon to git me a hard earned drink or two, and start spreadin the rumor 'bout the death of that notorious outlaw, Hannibal Heyes. Put the idea about too, 'bout the town keepin them clothes o' yourn. Make a fine souvenir for that little town, bring in the gawpers and their dollars. Make a real name for the place, the town where Hannibal Heyes met his final, well deserved end."

It finally dawned on Heyes how Alec'd set Kid up; made him think his partner, his friend, had died a horrible death at Jake's hands. Riled him up enough to go after the man and wreak revenge. Heyes knew well enough what Kid was like when his blood was up. He was bad enough with Heyes' steadying influence at hand. He couldn't begin to imagine how his friend would react, hearing Heyes was dead, and him all alone. The only thing in Kid's mind would be retribution; happy to get himself hanged on account of settling _that_ account. Two birds with one stone.

Heyes didn't know what beef Alec had with Jake - clearly the two old mates had had a parting of the ways. Alec wanted Jake dead too, and had decided to use Kid to do it.

Heyes' cold anger turned to blinding red rage at what Alec had done. He'd set out to destroy Kid - a man who'd never done him any harm, whose only 'crime' was to be partnered with Hannibal Heyes - And he'd done it too, just as surely as if he'd taken a gun and put a bullet in his heart. And now he stood there - smiling, laughing, taunting, proud of the clever way he'd annihilated his best - his only - friend.

Alec didn't see the subtle change in Heyes demeanor. Wasn't prepared for the seemingly broken man to move so fast, so sure, with such deadly strength and accuracy as he flew to his feet and charged, hitting Alec's knees with all the force left in his twisted, tortured body - So that Alec, taken by surprise, standing so near to the edge of that deadly precipice stood no chance at all as he stumbled, staggering back under the weight of Heyes' blow. He stood a moment, face frozen in shock and horror as he realised he was toppling back; arms flailing in desperate, frantic, hopeless need to halt the inevitable fall...

And then he was gone.

Heyes listened as the shrill scream descended with the man till a sickening crack stilled the sound and a deathly silence took it's place.

For a long time, Heyes lay where he had fallen, panting, sweating, heart pounding. He lay so still, watching the birds circle in the blue sky, unable to move.

Slowly his thoughts returned from their sojourn, and with them, the pain, and the knowledge that he was in very poor shape. He needed water, a doctor, clothing, food. Remembered there _was_ water now; food too. He had no clothes, but he had blankets. Had a horse and a saddle. If he could get himself mounted, he could get to a doctor. More than that, he had to get down to that town to see what damage Alec had done, how far his scheme had gone.

Dragging himself to the stream to drink and fill canteens, Heyes found himself praying again, praying with all his heart and soul that he could get to Kid before he went too far. But knowing all the time - knowing Kid as he did - knowing even as he prayed that he was almost certainly too late. The only plans he really needed to make now depended on whether the Kid was in jail, or if he'd already gone and got himself hanged.

Heyes shivered. He hoped it was just reaction setting in, and not the fever. He really couldn't afford to get sick now. He needed to drink and eat - get strong. Then wrap himself up against this unrelenting sun and somehow persuade his suffering and unresponsive body to drag itself up on that horse.

Curry sat on his cot, staring and silent. Two days he'd been in jail now and in all that time, he hadn't uttered a single word. He drank the cups of water when they were offered but the plates of food pushed under the door came out as they went in - untouched. He moved around. Sometimes he lay on the bed, sometimes he sat, sometimes he paced the floor. But it seemed to those who watched over him as if the world outside had ceased to exist for the young outlaw, time had no meaning for him, he was as likely to be up and pacing in the dead of night as he was to be dozing through the daytime.

For all that the sheriff had been doing a roaring trade, letting folks in to take a look at the great Kid Curry for fifty cents a time, the man was relieved the Marshals from Cheyenne were expected the following afternoon. Curry didn't exactly live up to his reputation. Folks were pretty disappointed when the notorious outlaw didn't rise to the bait of their taunts and cat-calls and the number of gawpers had fallen off. The only visitors today had been a few out-of-towners. The Sheriff now longed to be rid of the sullen prisoner. More even than that, he wanted that damn box out of his cell, neither he nor his deputies could rest easy with it there, but it was while those out-of-town tourists had been standing there, staring, that Kid felt the first glimmer of real emotion he'd had since he'd heard Heyes was dead.

It had been late on in the day, the last amber rays of the sun slanting sadly down across the narrow street, casting his cell into deep shadow, that he'd felt - something. For the first time, he felt compelled to look up at the group of people who'd paid to view his humiliation. His blue eyes raked the little assembly, causing the two ladies in the group to draw back with a started gasp. The visitors left shortly afterwards - the haunted look in the prisoner's eyes too much to bear, but Kid could see nothing there.

What had he expected? Honestly? He thought he'd see Heyes' ghost standing there. He'd watched for it - believed with all his heart and soul that if there was such a thing as a life after death, if there was anyway in hell, heaven or earth that Heyes could return to him after passing - he would come. He'd watched for him, day and night; had seen him in his dreams.

Some were terrible. His friend was suffering the torments of hell - seemed to be restrained in some way, burning, in pain and unable to move. Kid had woken screaming from these nightmares, sweating and shaking. Was Heyes in hell? Was his spirit still trapped in his body? Trapped in that vile box over there, unable to escape, unable to move or cry out... dear God! The thought of it made him want to shriek and rail. He knew he was losing his mind. He'd withdrawn into himself, hiding inside his own head from the hideous reality of what had happened to Heyes, what was going to happen to himself now he no longer had his partner at his side. But there, in that place, deep in his psyche, Heyes still walked and talked, still told him what to do.

He told him to hang on, not let go just yet, because he was coming for him. He was already on his way. And he'd talk soothingly to his friend, wise and gentle words, telling him all would be alright. He knew Heyes was trying to help, trying to comfort his tormented soul, but he also knew that Heyes was dead, he was not coming to help. Never would come again.

But... Just then, when those people were looking in at him. For one fleeting moment, the feeling of his partner's presence had been so strong, he'd thought, he'd really believed...

But there was nothing there. And Kid had lain back on the bed, exhausted; hope leaving his body like a wraith, departing with what was left of his soul. He tilted his hat over his face to hide the tears, closed his eyes and waited for whatever was coming to him; life or death - he no longer cared, one was the same as the other for him now.

Night was falling, darkness seeping out from the shadows like spilled ink. The sheriff left and a deputy took over - the last time the town would have to mount guard over these two most prized possessions. Guns were exchanged, put away, keys jangled, the scent of brewing coffee filled the air and night made himself at home with the chirping cicadas and the scratching rats for company. Soon these familiar sounds were joined by that of the deputy snoring. Kid settled in for another long night. He couldn't sleep, too unsettled by the feeling he'd had earlier when those folks had come in to gawp at him. It was a strange, disquieting sensation, like he was missing a piece of some puzzle, he didn't _want_ to think about it, didn't want to think about anything, thinking was hard and he was so, so tired.

Then he heard the explosion.

He sat up sharp, pulling his hat from his face, listening hard. The deputy was still snoring as if nothing had happened. Maybe he'd been dreaming again? But no, he could hear shouting outside, horses. He heard the sheriff's voice. If someone had got the sheriff out of bed something big must be happening. Gunfire now, bullets ricocheting! Sounds like the bank's being robbed, he thought, wondering vaguely how the deputy could sleep through it all? No wonder Heyes got away with blowing so many safes back in their early days, before he learned how to crack em. He smiled to himself at the memories that thought brought on. Then the front door knob rattled as if someone was trying to rouse the deputies, but soon gave up. He heard the thundering of horses hooves fly right past the jailhouse window. A posse then - he wondered who the gang was that had done the job? As if it mattered to him anymore. Still, he couldn't help smile at the thought whoever they were, they'd probably cleaned out the town. Good for them, he thought, settling his hat back down over his face with a smile.

He heard the back door creak open and in he walked. He'd come at last.

"I've been waitin for you," he said to Heyes' ghost with a smile. "Thought you'd never get here."

He half wondered then, if Heyes had come to take him with him. If he'd been killed somehow, in the melee outside. Maybe a stray bullet had ricocheted in here and he was dead? Could you be killed without even noticing?

Or was he just dreaming again? Why did he keep having these dreams about Heyes? They were so vivid, raising his hopes so high, only to have em dashed down, dashed all to pieces when he woke to find himself still in this dank cell, and Heyes still stiff and cold in the box beside him.

But here he was - seemed to be - standing there, smiling that old Heyes smile. Wearing his own clothes, the ones he knew to be on display in the town's General store - a bulging saddle bag and Kid's gunbelt over one arm.

"Hey Kid," he said, opening the cell door. "You just gonna sit there? It won't take long 'fore that Posse realizes they're following a false trail."

And still Kid sat there, staring at him.

"Kid?" Heyes dropped the bag and gripped him by the shoulder, squeezing tight, shaking him. "Kid, c'mon. You're scaring me here."

Kid looked into those dark eyes. Heyes looked more than a little disconcerted. Kid reached up and touched his friend's face. He could feel the skin; warm to his touch - too warm, too dry, like he had a fever. He stroked a thumb lightly over the chin, could feel the prickling start of a beard. He moved his hand down to the shoulder, over the strong warm arm gripping him, feeling the muscles under the sturdy dark shirt, the hairs that gathered by the wrist, the solid reality of the hand gripping him. This was no spirit or fantasy conjured by a dream! "Heyes?"

"Yeah, it's me," Heyes half-laughed. "C'mon, we gotta get out of here. I've got the horses tied out back. This here's the money from the bank. You know," he grinned. "I've half a mind to take it with me, but that won't exactly help us with that amnesty now, will it? I'll leave it here, locked in the cell, should be safe till the Sheriff gets back. Hey, come on now, wake up partner. Let's get movin!"

And Heyes pulled him up, half dragging him out the door and on to the street where the horses were waiting.

They rode out of town fast, just as they'd done so many times before, neither of them saying one word to the other till they were sure that they were safe. Kid was still half-convinced it was a dream, that he would wake soon to find himself back in that cell.

They reigned to a halt many miles outside of town, just as the first pink lights of dawn were streaking the sky. Resting their horses in a cooling stream, Heyes bent down to freshen the water in the canteens, sneaking a look at his partner who continued to worry him. He seemed so spaced, so dazed, Heyes began to wonder if the traumas of the past two weeks had turned his mind. He'd had a nasty shock when he visited his friend in jail that afternoon. The look in his eyes... He laid a gentle hand on Kid's leg.

"Why don't you get down? Rest a while? It'd take a better man than that sheriff to follow a trail over these rocks. We're safe enough for an hour or so."

Kid looked at his friend as he eased off his horse. He was bursting with the need to talk, but hardly knowing where to begin. Still unable to believe that this was not a dream and it really was Heyes who was talking to him; solid, real, heart beating, alive.

"How'd you do it, Heyes? Come back from the dead like that? No one admires your skill and genius more than me but I gotta say, that's the one thing I thought even you couldn't lick."

"Never was dead, Kid," Heyes smiled. "It was just Alec wanted you to think I was."

The name brought Kid up short with a gasp. He looked at Heyes', with dark eyes. A shadow passed over his face and his hand snapped automatically to his gun.

"Where'd he come in? I thought this was all about Jake..."

"That's just what he wanted you to think. Jake had nothing to do with any of this, Kid, just like he had nothing to do with Shelia. Seems Jake and Alec had a falling out in jail. When Jake was let out, a few weeks before Alec, he disappeared fast as he could. He knew Alec would be out there, trailing him. Old Alec never was one to let up on a grievance. Alec tracked him down to Ferrell, looking for a way to get back at his old partner, then he somehow found out we was in the area too, and he hit on this plan, to get back at the both of us and Jake too."

"I don't understand, Heyes."

Heyes looked at the Kid. Even in the soft light of dawn, he could see the dark rings under his eyes, the haunted look marring his face. He'd lost a few pounds, looked positively skinny. Heyes couldn't begin to imagine what he'd been through while they'd been apart. Though he had a fair idea of the kind of mental agonies he'd suffered because he knew how he'd feel if it'd been him in that cell, looking at that coffin, thinking it was Kid inside... He didn't know if Kid was ready for the whole truth, but he deserved to know as much as he could give him.

"Alec set you up. He stole my clothes off my back and got someone else to ride into town pretending to be me; told him to ask around after Jake and drop the odd hint to people that he was Hannibal Heyes. He lured Jake into fleeing town, knew he'd high tail it out of there soon as he thought I was lookin for him. Alec waited on the edge of town where he waylaid Jake and killed him. He got the folks in town whipped up in a veritable frenzy, having the body of Hannibal Heyes in their one horse little town. Made sure the news would get around good and fast, then sat back and waited for you to show..."

"So, the plan was, I'd assume it was Jake that had killed you, and go after him?"

"And get yourself hanged over it."

"And I fell for it."

"He knew you'd come after my murderer, same as I would've done for you."

"Am I _that _predictable?"

Heyes smiled. "Only over the important things Kid, like love, and loyalty to a friend."

"I got caught by the Sheriff real quick too."

Heyes laughed. "Yeah, that _was_ pretty careless."

Kid looked at Heyes and saw he was grinning, but the look Kid gave him soon squashed the smile.

"Ah come on Kid, aren't you happy to see me?"

"'Course I am, Heyes."

Kid looked his friend over. He didn't know what had happened these past couple of weeks but he looked like death warmed over. He noticed he only carried and lifted with one hand - carried his other arm like it was hurting him. He moved stiffly too, with none of his usual, casual grace, and his eyes had a dark, hooded look. The look he'd seen on dying men, men who were suffering tremendous pain. Heyes had a lot more explaining to do. But Kid knew he'd tell him everything eventually - when he was ready.

"How'd you get your clothes back?"

Heyes laughed with the unexpected absurdity of the question.

"Well, you did leave that poor storekeeper in a one hell of a mess. He'll recover," Heyes said, throwing a glance at his friend. Truth be told, he was kinda shocked at the violence of the attack his friend had launched on the man. An indication of his state of mind, and what he was capable of. Curry had been a dangerous gunfighter after all. His friend was naturally such a gentle tempered man, sometimes Heyes forgot that he had earned that reputation he carried.

"After that they moved my clothes to the bank for safe keeping, till after you'd gone off safe and sound back to Wyoming. I needed a diversion to get you out of jail, so I broke in the bank..."

"I heard you blow the safe."

Heyes shrugged with a frown. "I _opened_ the safe. Old Brooker 101."

Kid blew out his cheeks, shook his head in derision.

"...Had her open in about two minutes flat. Saw my clothes there... Well, there was no way I was going to let them keep my hat, so while I helped myself to the contents of the safe, I got myself changed out of those filthy rags I'd bought off an old saddle tramp on my way here and... I only blew the safe after to create the diversion. Set her to go off after I was safely out the bank, watching round the corner for the posse to head off."

"I can't believe the deputy slept through that."

"Oh that was probably due to the Mickey Finn I slipped in their coffee when I was there earlier, same stuff I used in your drink as a matter of fact."

Kid snapped a hard look up at this, remembering how he'd felt the morning after he'd drugged his drink but decided to let it go - for now.

"Earlier? You said you were there earlier? So you _were_ there with that group of people! I knew it!" Kid slammed his hat down on the ground, raising a cloud of dust that settled on them both. "I couldn't see you, but I felt you. I knew you were there. I thought I was going crazy!"

"You're alright ain't you Kid? They didn't hurt you?"

Kid closed his eyes for a few seconds; let all the emotions wash over him. When he opened them again, he was smiling.

"Damn you, Heyes," he sighed. "It's great to have you back from the dead."

And with that they hugged, shouting with joy and thumping each other on the back like it had been years since they last met. Kid noticed Heyes wince a little when he slapped him, knew there was a lot more of the story to come, but for that moment, he was content to have his best friend back by his side.

Heyes was just glad to see Kid smile.

His partner had come back from the dead too.

THE END. Thank you for reading.


End file.
